


Five Fingers In A Fist

by rhiannonhero



Series: Five Fingers [2]
Category: As the World Turns
Genre: Fisting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-02
Updated: 2010-08-02
Packaged: 2017-10-10 21:48:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/104661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhiannonhero/pseuds/rhiannonhero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to <a href="http://rhihero-fic.livejournal.com/73969.html">Five Fingers On A Hand</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Fingers In A Fist

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my friends [](http://peggin.livejournal.com/profile)[**peggin**](http://peggin.livejournal.com/) and [](http://amelialourdes.livejournal.com/profile)[**amelialourdes**](http://amelialourdes.livejournal.com/) for the beta read! :) Love you, ladies!

  
Luke is in Reid's lap, at least partially. His head is on the mattress and his lower back is supported by a pillow as his ass rests in Reid's lap, his legs spread on either side of Reid's body, and his cock hard and eager against his stomach.

He's listening as Reid tells him how he'll want Luke to roll onto his left side, the way they've practiced, and asks, again, if Luke is sure that is the position he's most comfortable being penetrated in, and Luke nods, sweaty and nervous. His fingers tingle and his attention seems divided between his ass, where the thick plug he's been working to fit in for weeks is firmly lodged, and his thudding heart which is betraying his fear.

Luke's not even sure this can be done. He's read about it, a lot, and he's talked to Reid, and been regaled with all kinds of horror stories of the things that people fit into their asses and then have to go to the ER to have removed, everything from light bulbs to canning jars to baseball bats, but it seems like most of those people were drunk, or high, or both, and Luke…well, Luke's two years sober now. Two years, five months, and twelve days. And most of the time he gets along without drinking just fine, but there are days, like now, when he wishes he could indulge, when he wishes that the liquid courage could fill him up, and he could just _trust_.

Trust is a lot of things from the gloves, to the lube, to the belief that if Luke calls it quits then Reid will end it, but it's more than that, too. It's about Luke's drinking, and Luke's kidney, and it's about his family, and his relationship with Noah, and the time that Brian kissed him, and the fear that if he trusts himself, he might be wrong, that he might end up hurting someone he loves.

Reid taps a finger against the plug in Luke's ass and then rubs his hands over Luke's thighs, massaging gently, talking about the plan of action. "I brought extra gloves from the hospital. If there's a tear this time we'll be prepared. I'm not willing to risk an infection, which would be a poor outcome for what should be a good experience at the best of times, but your immunosuppressant meds could make that dangerous."

It's been a gradual thing, getting here. The night Reid returned with Chinese food, they'd made it to four fingers, and then Luke had begged for it to stop. But that's normal, Reid says. That's because it takes time to go that far, and when Luke asks why, Reid replies, "It takes trust."

Luke should trust Reid by now. He does. He trusts Reid to be gentle when he needs it gentle, and rough when he needs it rough. He trusts Reid to love brains, and to say something horrible at just the wrong moment, and he trusts Reid to take Luke's love and not throw it back at him. But sometimes, when Reid's working him, licking at his hole, opening him up, Luke tenses and pulls back. And he doesn't even know why, because it isn't Reid that he can't trust. It's himself. Luke can't remember the last time he trusted himself.

Luke doesn't know why Reid hasn't taken it personally, but he never does. He just says, "It takes time."

And Luke isn't even sure what's in it for Reid anyway, but then he remembers how vulnerable Reid looks just after Luke comes, like Luke's orgasm is the one that matters, like the way Luke breaks apart, the quality of it, is the most important thing to Reid, of greater value than Reid's own orgasm, and it's in those moments that Luke breathes, "What? Tell me?" And Reid looks confused, and he says, "You're hot," Like that explains everything. Like that's why he's looking at Luke like that.

But Luke's seen it, and he's never seen an expression like that before. With Noah – it was different. It was like Noah understood the truth, the reality of it, how damaged Luke is and what a bad person he can be, and Noah tried to love him, he really did, and Luke supposed that Noah had, in his own way, but now, seeing Reid watching as Luke comes, he knows that he's got something a lot more precious on his hands. And that's dangerous. Because Luke breaks things without even meaning to, and he doesn't want to break this.

Luke swallows hard as Reid begins to twist the plug, starting to pull it from Luke's ass, and he wonders, can he give this much, can he be this vulnerable? Can he let Reid this far in?

He turns onto his side, pressing his knees together and drawing them up to his chest to make room for Reid. Reid is saying how easy this will be, just a slide in, just a big stretch and some burn, and then his hand will be inside, all the way inside. Luke quivers. He turns his head to meet Reid's eyes, and they are so blue. Deep blue like a sky, hot like a screaming summer day, and Luke can't decide, does he look at Reid's eyes? Or does he shut them out, relax into the darkness behind his own lids, and open up to Reid's hand?

There are days when he asks why he even wants to do this. It has gone so far now; it is beyond the thrill of the kink, and Luke knows it isn't just that when he's got Reid's four fingers in him, he comes so hard that it rocks right through him. It's like it has become personal. A test of sorts – to see if he finds himself worthy, to see if he can trust enough to be trusted.

"Remember," Reid is saying. "If it hurts in a way that isn't good, or you just don't want any more, tell me. This is over when you say the word."

Luke nods, swallows hard, and relaxes as Reid pours and rubs lube over his hole. Reid starts with four fingers this time because Luke is so open from the plug. Luke feels warm, lets himself drift on the heat, flashes of the way alcohol burns going down, the way his guts would churn with it, burning until it melted his body into numbness. Now, though, he's burning, melting, but he's far from numb. He's profoundly aware of sensation, of the pain of Reid's fingers pushing and spreading him open wider, of the pleasure of Reid's fingers grazing his prostate, and Reid's voice, talking in a quiet, ceaseless way, soothing things, practical things, and hot things that keep Luke from getting scared, that keep him feeling safe.

Four fingers and then Reid's thumb, and Luke's eyes close. They close because he's so stretched now, his ass burning as Reid's hand presses against him, the width at the wide point of his hand too much to take, and Luke's breathing through it, long, slow inhales and tremulous exhales, as Reid fucks him with his fingers and thumb, the slip of lubricant making it sound sloppy, with wet sucking sounds, and Luke turns his face to the mattress, buries it in the sheets, and pushes back, pushes against Reid's hand, and then there's a sensation like Luke's never felt before, a tension that seems to take him over from his head to his toes, to bring him up short with a sharp edge, and then he's gasping hard and fast as the tension breaks, and Reid's hand feels pulled inside of him.

"Luke," Reid says, his voice rough and soft. "Are you okay?"

Luke's eyes have opened, and he's staring at Reid, his breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding, and his insides shaking around the solidity of Reid's fist, and he just stares at him, stares at him and tries not to freak out. He tries not to push, or pull, or turn over, because he really wants to turn over, he wants to get up on his hands and knees, and move, because something feels wild inside of him, wild and unexpected, and he's half inclined to reach down and grab Reid's hand to shove it in further, and half inclined to try to pull it out.

"Breathe, Luke," Reid says. "Breathe in slowly and let it out."

As Luke does this, Reid pulls his hand against Luke's ass, and there's tension again that makes Luke's mind swim, but then Luke's empty, so fucking empty, and Reid's slathering his hand with more lube and saying, "Again?"

Luke doesn't know how this happens, but he's on his stomach now, with his ass in the air, and Reid's pushing in again, and Luke's moving back on it, moving onto Reid's arm. It feels solid, huge, and he squirms on it in slow motion, a cautious circle, and the sensation from his prostate is too much, rushing over him in a blinding wave that he feels unable to cope with, and he scrambles at the bed, only realizing that he's trying to crawl off of Reid's hand when Reid grabs hold of him by the leg, and keeps him still, murmuring, "Hold on, hold on, Luke. Relax."

And Luke's glad he doesn't say to calm down, because he can't calm down when he's this taken over, and he tries to just hold still as Reid talks him to a place where he isn't fighting to get away anymore, but is backing up, slowly, slowly, backing up onto Reid's arm a little. And then there's a moment when Luke feels like the world has come apart because Reid's hand is unfolding inside him, and Luke can feel fingers moving in a place so deep that he's never imagined that anyone would ever touch, caressing, soft fingers, that have him muffling his yells into the bed, and biting at the sheets to keep from losing control.

Reid touches his hip, and says, "I'm going to pull out. Relax, push, and breathe."

Luke somehow does what he's told, and Reid urges him onto his back. Luke's shaky, but he manages to hold his legs back, hooking his arms under his own knees, and Reid pushes in again, and it's easier now, so much easier, but Luke feels like he's undone, lost in sensation, and he tenses, feels his ass clamp down, and it hurts.

"Shhh," Reid soothes, rubbing at Luke's hamstrings, pushing a little down, helping Luke's muscles release. "It's okay. You're okay."

Luke doesn't feel okay. He feels high, drunk, stunned. He stares at the side of Reid's face, with time slowed down to a slow roll of Reid's fist in his ass, and long blinks of Reid's lashes. And then Reid looks at him, and Luke feels the shock down to the quick, down into his body where Reid's fist is moving.

"This is good, Luke," Reid says. "You're doing such a good job."

Luke clutches the backs of his knees, digging his nails in for an offsetting sensation, and Reid smiles gently, and whispers, "You're so beautiful like this. All open and hot for me. You feel amazing."

"Yeah?" Luke asks, and his voice doesn't even sound like his own. It sounds broken, lost.

"Of course," Reid says. And he moves, carefully, so he's leaning over look, his hand at an angle in Luke's ass, and his face just inches away, staring into Luke's eyes. His kiss is hot and slow, intimate, and Luke doesn't close his eyes for it, wanting to take Reid in every way, through his eyes, his mouth, his ass. He whimpers when Reid pulls away, the sweet taste of Reid's saliva still on his tongue.

"Reid," Luke says, and he's never felt like this, not just sensation, but emotion, like by putting his hand so deep inside, Reid's touched Luke's heart in a way it's never been before, maybe his soul.

"You're completely safe," Reid said. "I have you and you're safe with me."

Luke feels oddly like he might cry, and he nods. "I know," he says.

"Let's try this," Reid murmurs, and his hand is pumping, twisting, and Luke shakes his head, his eyes closed on the startling ecstasy thudding through him as Reid's knuckles hit in sequence over Luke's prostate.

Luke's so full – of feeling, emotion, sensation – and he's flying on it, the pain and the pleasure, and he's not going to be able to land so much as crash entirely. He is terrified for several heartbeats, and then the he's dissolving into it, and thrashing on it. Luke can feel Reid holding him steady, holding him down, while he twists inside of Luke, and he can't hold his body still, jerking, twitching, crying out, and finally, like a wild animal seeking crazed relief, Luke's jerking his own cock, and coming so hard, so hard that he doesn't think it is going to stop, and it hurts and it's too good. His body is clenching around Reid so hard that he hears Reid's own shocked noise, and that makes him come again, the pleasure shaking him apart, and leaving him wet with sweat, come, and tears.

As Luke puts his mind back together, breathing and shaking, he listens to Reid jerking off, and feels the hot splatter of Reid's come on his cock and stomach. And then there is a sickening pull, a loss that makes Luke feel oddly weepy, and he bites his lip to hold back tears as Reid pulls his hand out.

It's a long few minutes for Luke of shivering through Reid's ministrations. The doctorly exam of Luke's asshole, the tender clean-up effort, the disposal of gloves, the washing of hands, the tidying of the bed, and changing the sheets, so that Reid can lay comfortably beside him.

"You might have cramping, tenderness, and—"

"Reid," Luke interrupts, curling up against Reid's side, wanting to feel the scrape of Reid's chest hair against his cheek, and smell the sweet residual scent of Reid's sweat and come. "I need to tell you something."

Reid pauses and Luke can feel his hesitancy, but Reid says, "All right."

Luke scoots up, so that he can see Reid's face, and he kisses him, presses his forehead to Reid's, and says, "I love you."

Reid lets out a puff of air. "This is news? I figured that out when you let me put my hand in your ass."

Luke rolls his eyes. "And my mother doesn't think you're a charmer. How could she miss it?"

"You mention your mother at a time like this? Issues. You have them."

"Reid," Luke says, his ass reminding him vividly of what they'd just done. "I need to know that you…that you…feel the same about me."

Reid looks at him incredulously. "What? Are you serious? Didn't you…? Luke, look, I – yes. I just had my hand in your ass, and you need to know this? Fine, okay. I love you. I have for awhile. Longer than you've loved me, that's for sure. So, don't get all weepy about it, or act like you didn't—"

Luke shuts him up with a kiss, because, yes, he did know this. He's known it all along. He just needs to hear it because this is the farthest he's let himself go with anyone, the most he's just given up, given in, and _trusted_.

Two hours later, Luke wakes up from a nap feeling sated and simultaneously twingy. His ass isn't up for any additional play, and he suspects it will be a few days. Reid's not in bed, and Luke has a sudden flash of fear, a sudden certainty that Reid has come to his senses, has realized that Luke is damaged goods, and taken off for the hills, or the hospital at the very least. But then Reid's there in the doorway, and he's got boxes of Chinese food, plates and forks, and a look of concern on his face.

"So, how's the ass?" he asks, putting the boxes and plates on the table beside the bed. His hand is gentle on Luke's cheek, and he's searching Luke's face for information.

"I've heard it's really hot."

Reid smirks. "It is." Then his face grows thoughtful, and he moves his fingers slowly against Luke's beard line. "I can still feel the heat, and how tight you clenched down when you came."

"Was it good for you?" Luke asks.

Reid scoffs. "What do you think? No, it was a horror show! Of course it was good."

Luke turns his face and kisses Reid's fingers, before turning to the Chinese food. "What do we have? I'm starved."

Halfway through the Chow Mein, Luke murmurs, "So, how many times have you done that?"

"Fisting?"

"Yeah."

Reid adds more noodles to his plate. "I haven't."

"What?"

Reid shrugs. "I haven't done that before."

"Are you kidding me? All of this time, all of these months I thought you knew what you were doing."

"I do know what I'm doing," Reid says. "You don't seem to have any complaints."

"But—" Luke sputters. "You know what I mean! You know that I thought you were experienced at this!"

"I'm not an idiot," Reid says, slowly. "I did my research. There was no way I was going to put my hand up there without knowing what I'm doing first. I'm a neurosurgeon. I touch people's _brains_ all the time. I think I could be trusted to figure out what to do with your ass."

"Seriously, Reid?"

Reid takes a bite of his food and says, "What? Think about it Luke. Think about how much it took for you to let me do that. Now, tell me, who else in this world is going to trust me that much."

"You just said it. You just said that people trust you to touch their brains all of the time—"

Reid rolls his eyes. "Okay, let's put it this way. Why would I want to? There's never been anyone else I'd even consider it for."

Luke grabs Reid then, pulls him closer, spilling their plates on the fresh sheets, so that he can push Reid down, climb on top of him, and wanting him closer than he knew he could get him. "Thank you," he says, between breathtaking kisses. "Thank you." And it's, "Thank you for taking me this far, for bringing me to myself, to you, to us. Thank you for making drinking seem ridiculous, and unnecessary, for holding me, and making me come, and for loving me afterward, and not pushing me away. Thank you, thank you, thank you." And Luke's not sure if he said any of this, but it doesn't matter because he's never been more vulnerable, but it's all right, it's all good, because somehow he _trusts_

  
THE END

**Author's Note:**

> I did a lot of research for this fisting fic, because this isn't anything I've ever done myself, nor do I wish to. :) But, more important to me sometimes is finding the right mood that I want to channel, and listening to this song yesterday, I found a way into this story. I thought you might be interested, though perhaps not. No worries either way. :)
> 
> Glitter In The Air - Pink
> 
> Have you ever fed a lover with just your hands?  
> Closed your eyes and trusted, just trusted?  
> Have you ever thrown a fist full of glitter in the air?  
> Have you ever looked fear in the face  
> And said I just don't care?
> 
> It's only half past the point of no return  
> The tip of the iceberg, the sun before the burn  
> The thunder before lightning, the breath before the phrase  
> Have you ever felt this way?
> 
> Have you ever hated yourself for staring at the phone?  
> Your whole life waiting on the ring to prove you're not alone  
> Have you ever been touched so gently you had to cry?  
> Have you ever invited a stranger to come inside?
> 
> It's only half past the point of oblivion  
> The hourglass on the table, the walk before the run  
> The breath before the kiss and the fear before the flames  
> Have you ever felt this way?
> 
> There you are, sitting in the garden  
> Clutching my coffee, calling me sugar  
> You called me sugar
> 
> Have you ever wished for an endless night?  
> Lassoed the moon and the stars and pulled that rope tight  
> Have you ever held your breath and asked yourself  
> Will it ever get better than tonight? Tonight


End file.
